Arrival
by legendarytobes
Summary: AU - Fifth part of the Crusade 'Verse - the arrival of Zod's lieutenants in the black ship threaten everything that Kal-El and Clark hold dear and present Clark with an impossible choice.
1. Chapter 1

1

Clark wiped the sweat from his brow and reached for his bottle of Gatorade, draining it in one greedy gulp. It was September, but an Indian summer, and the heat was oppressive. It was the first time he'd ever felt anything like this, considering that Eric had "borrowed" his powers in the winter. He'd been learning to suffer through the scorching temperatures and humidity, even remembered after a summer of mistakes to slather forty-five suntan lotion on himself and to keep drinking fluids.

There was so much to keep in mind and be aware of, now that he was human. It was overwhelming some days.

There was no way to prevent sore muscles. Oh he could eat extra bananas for the potassium and stay hydrated. He could build up tolerance with months of practice doing farm chores as any other person did, but after four or five hours of setting fence posts, digging deep into the unyielding earth, his arms ached and he could barely lift them. He'd wanted to get all of this done for his dad, even if they had hands now. It was important to his father that his son learn to work the land and keep up with family traditions. Clark, after all, wasn't sure what he was going to study. He'd taken Kal-El's acceptance at Met U. It wasn't like anyone would noticed the difference. He'd considered Central Kansas in junior year because it was cheaper but, with his "brother's" stipend, money wasn't a worry anymore.

At least that was nice.

Clark was learning to deal with Kal-El, with his strange other half who looked like him-save for his blue eyes and the brand Jor-El had left on his chest-but it was disconcerting. For all intents and purposes the Kryptonian was him, sounded like him, had all the weaknesses he'd had before he'd been made mortal. Hell, he even felt the same way that Clark did about their mother and, if Kal-El were ever going to be honest with himself and his attitude, his brother still craved Jonathan Kent's attention.

Sighing, Clark sat down in the dirt and turned the Gatorade bottle upside down, lapping up the last few drops. His father had had a nightmare under the LuthorCorp bacteria's influence, dreamed of Kal-El conquering the world. After half a year, Clark knew that Kal-El wasn't like that. Sure, he was arrogant and stubborn, had the sense of humor of cardboard no matter what Chloe and mom said, but he wasn't evil. He was smart and incisive, and spent his time patrolling the world at large (he could fly and Clark wished he could have tried that one just once), saving people nightly.

A future dictator wouldn't do that.

Still his dad insisted Kal-El had to be stopped and that scared Clark, that fanaticism. Scratching at his nose, which, damn it was peeling yet again, Clark shook his head and tried to stand, groaning when he realized his legs refused to budge. He'd have done better trying to stand on Jell-O.

It was then that strong arms grabbed him by the shoulders and lifted him up as if he weighed nothing at all. Rolling his eyes, Clark glanced at his brother, trying to shake off the feeling of looking in a mirror that it always invoked. "What are you doing out here?" Focusing properly on Kal-El, Clark frowned. His brother was dressed in boots, jeans, and flannel. The jeans and boots black of course, Kal-El's favorite color. The flannel was gray plaid pattern. Unlike him, Kal-El had never been fond of primary colors. "Makeover much?"

Kal-El shrugged. "Sull-I-Van suggested that I help you with your chores."

Clark shook his head, hating the way that Kal-El said Chloe's last name, enunciating it with Kryptonian syllables. It seemed stupid to him as many things that his brother did. "She made an ultimatum?"

"No, not exactly. She and mother merely implied that I'd be happier complying than abstaining."

Clark laughed, despite his mood. "They threatened you. I know mom; she can be way scary."

Kal-El tilted his head at him stiffly, as if he were a hawk or another bird of prey. It made Clark slouch in on himself a bit. "You are exhausted. Let me finish the posts. I can shove them down in minutes."

"I remember that one," Clark replied and, no, his tone wasn't bitter. If anyone asked, it was wistful.

Before him, Kal-El blurred and he could here the slams of the posts through the ground, a bit like mini-explosions, feel the ground shake beneath him. When his brother was done, he was leaning on the post closest to him, grinning. "And now you may come in before noon. Mother has made lemonade and Sull-I-Van...she has been allowed to watch."

"Good, cause last time she put salt in it and it sucked."

"Agreed, my intended is not very domestic."

Clark snorted. "Keep talking like that, C3PO."

"She is my intended. Just because Lana has left you for art school in New York City does not change that."

"Believe me, I know and I am not jealous. I just miss Lana, a lot. Being dumped does a number on a guy's ego."

"Especially because you thought being human would change her fickle nature?"

"Just," he said, sighing and dragging a hand through his bangs. "I thought this whole thing would be simpler."

"You know," Kal-El started. "Jor-El would give you your abilities back. Surely six months without them and eighteen months in stasis is enough for you to learn your lessons."

Clark glared at his brother and gestured to his chest. "Did the brand teach you?"

Kal-El glared back at him, his eyes flashing red. "I suppose not. I merely wish to remind you that the offer Sull-I-Van and I have broached with you still stands. Should you ever want to be yourself again, you need only ask."

"Like you," Clark corrected, grabbing the shovel and starting to the barn. Kal-El kept a human pace beside him.

"Like your true nature," Kal-El corrected solemnly before blurring to the house.

Show off


	2. Chapter 2

2

"Your work is excellent as always, Kal-El," Dr. Swann said, waiting as his respirator gave him another gulp of air. "The proof work is solid. I don't believe you, of course, but I'll see what I can do to counter your point."

Kal-El smiled genuinely. "Of course, Virgil. If you accepted I am the superior physicist."

"I am."

Kal-El's smile was wide by then. "You're only human, after all."

"Quite," Virgil replied, waiting a few beats as his respirator breathed in and out. "Kal-El, if I may, we should address something that's not physics."

"There are other things in life?"

"Also clever. I'm serious. College is starting soon. Have you given thought to that?"

"Clark took my spot finishing high school. Technically, I lack even a diploma from an institution that lowly."

"That's not a problem. Bridget and I will each write you a recommendation and donate a bit. That greases things nicely but it's obvious you're beyond genius level in science."

"Which is why I find human university a waste of my time and intellect. I know about physics; I know enough that the professors would seem like children to me."

"We have a saying here, Kal-El. That 'pride-"

"'Goeth before fall.' I am familiar with the bible, Koran, Torah and other religious documents. I have read them during my year awake. They were different."

"From your religion?"

"We didn't pray to the Old Gods anymore. We believed in science and superstition was well and truly dead."

Virgil blinked back at him, the most he could really move. "You've seen a lot of the world with Chloe. I know that."

"Sull-I-Van and I travel when school was not in session. This summer was most enlightening."

"That's my point. If you went to college for a while, you don't have to study physics or chemistry. They clearly would bore you, and I accept whatever Met U could cover would be behind what Krypton knew, obviously."

"However?" he asked, quirking his head at him.

"There's more than that covered at a university as large at Met U. It's one of the best public colleges in the country, the world really. You could major in many different things-religion or history, politics or biology. There are things you don't yet understand about us."

"I have lived here as a human for a long time, more or less, when I was buried inside of Clark. I had his classes and retained that information. My father has taught me much in training; he had archives on humanity as well, among other races."

The machine took in measured breaths. Virgil often waited, prolonging silences to make his point. "But it's not the same. You travel the world to understand different cultures first hand, and to spread your abilities to all the people who need them. It might do you some good to go to college as well, to still travel when you can-we know how fast you are-but to understand us, you need to really learn about us. High school isn't a substitute for majoring in our history or culture, should you choose anthropology."

He quirked his head again stiffly. "You are serious?"

"Deadly. I know you struggle with your father's orders."

Despite himself, Kal-El rubbed at his chest, at the brand that marked him and made him ashamed in front of his intended. "I do not want to rule with strength . I cannot. "

"No one said that. If you did, you'd have done more with your Fortress than trust it to Miss Sullivan. However, I think you need to consider Met U for a while. Technically, even if you're an adult on Krypton and of age for Earth, you're terribly young still."

"I am eighteen."

"Very young."

Kal-El narrowed his eyes at Virgil and considered him. "There is an ulterior motive for this, for me to remain close to the place of our adoption."

Long pause. "Yes, you need to reconcile with your father."

"Jor-El and I have an understanding."

"Jonathan Kent and spare me the protests. I am very fond of you."

"Thank you," he replied stiffly, a bit awkward with affection not from his mother or Sull-I-Van.

"But, that said, I am not your adoptive father and I won't take the title. You need to come to some kind of peace with him. It'll haunt you if you don't. Beside, shouldn't a world leader be able to negotiate with his own father?"

"That is not an accurate analogy. Jonathan Kent is the most stubborn man I have ever encountered, even in my travels. There is no appeasing him."

"You fidget when you say that, break eye contact with me. Just admit that you want his attention, drop the conqueror act. We all know you are more than Clark's alien half. I just...I think you ask too much of yourself too soon. It would do you good to learn more and to bond with both your father and your 'brother.'"

"Clark does not favor me much. If I am correct, he may have developed a crush on my intended."

"Then that's complicated, but he's been where you are, and you share his past. For lack of a better explanation, you're both the last of your kind. That's a burden neither of you should weather alone. Just ask Martha and Miss Sullivan about college. Think about building your bonds with the humans closest to you. It will make you a better leader to have a strong support system. Clark and Mr. Kent can be apart of that."

"I suppose," he replied, sighing. "Virgil, I cannot promise anything, but if I did decide to attend university, I shall call you."

"That's all I ask Kal-El. Now go home. You have to prepare for Clark's move in in a few days."

"Yes, it shall be most difficult to move his possessions."

"Don't be smug. He is as he is. Don't rub in the weaknesses. It's petty and beneath you."

He smirked. "Perhaps not. After all, I am only an adolescent." With that, he was gone, flying back to the farm, but not to his home.

He found his brother in what had once been, well, their room, working on folding his clothes. Clark already had a duffle bag packed and most of his posters off of his walls. "Oh, it's you."

"Do you require assistance?"

"You're never going to talk like me, are you?"

"It is not in my nature," he said, sitting down at Clark's desk. He noticed Clark's dictionaries and a few reference books, such as The Elements of Style were missing. They'd probably been packed as well. It made the room look bigger than it actually was, more cavernous. "You are getting an early start?"

"I have three days and tons of stuff to wash and there's the stereo and my computer and my printer and-"

"I see the point. Do you need help?"

"Folding my clothes? Um, not really." Clark frowned. "Although, between you and me, I am getting stiff in my back from all the leaning over to pack."

Kal-El nodded, deciding for once not to bait his brother. After all, Sull-I-Van and mother were at The Talon passing time with Lois. There was no need to posture for either of them. "Are you sure I cannot aid you?"

Clark turned around and frowned at him. "Ah, is this a trick?"

"How would folding flannel be a ruse?"

"I dunno, um, this isn't like an aliens take over the world thing, so don't take this wrong."

"I see," he said, flashing a small bit of heat vision to spite Clark.

"Yeah, but, uh are you like trying to get on my good side? I can't really imagine why you would."

Kal-El sighed and it was enough to ruffle his brother's hair and the few posters left on the wall. "May I be honest?"

"Sure, shoot," Clark said, working on his jeans.

"Virgil suggested that I try to be more companionable with you."

"So you got scolded and decided to put a Band-Aid on it?"

"Not exactly scolded. I do not always admit when Virgil is correct, especially over physics." He noticed his brother shrug but look down at his bedspread. They had always been inhumanly bright in math, able to speed read, and with eidetic memories. Kal-El had taken that half and Clark was now merely an average student, had lost his math abilities that he had obviously liked. "However, he made a valid assessment."

"How so?" And now he was working on boxers with little shame.

"We are the last of our kind."

"Is this about the deal again? I really get tired of people telling me to be more Kryptonian. I'll pass on infinite power if I don't have to worry about being dissected, no offense."

Kal-El shrugged in return. "There are none. I am patient as is Jor-El. When you are ready, you merely need to ask."

"I won't."

"Fair enough, for now. It is merely that we share many things-perhaps too many if one considers mother-but we do not converse about it. I suppose I am just lonely, even with Sull-I-Van and mother."

Clark grimaced a little when he mentioned Sull-I-Van. How interesting. "I can get that. I...okay, if you don't harass me about the powers thing...I, uh, guess we can hang out."

"That is acceptable."

"Cool. Do you want to like help me zip my suitcase? It's gonna be super full. If I sit on it, you can zip."

Kal-El laughed. "Alright, brother, let us begin."


	3. Chapter 3

3

Clark was feeling a little weird. Kal-El was being nice to him. He was helping him back, not snarking at him that much (maybe once an hour), and he wasn't even bugging him about getting his powers back. Clark was actually beginning to wonder if Kal-El were sick or if there was a color of meteor rock that made Kryptonians relax. He wasn't sure, but he had checked Kal-El for weird rings or pendants just yesterday to make sure.

Finally, when they were in the process of loading the truck, he asked his brother what was up. (Well, Kal-El was doing the hard stuff like the stereo and book shelf and anything heavy. Clark was doing the suitcases, which weren't exactly light.) Taking a breather after loading his second suitcase, Clark quirked his head at his brother. "Um, hey, don't take this the wrong way."

Kal-El stood up ramrod straight, as if in the military, and Clark realized then how tall they were. He had a slouching problem. Kal-El actually looked intimidating. "This depends. What are you going to inquire about?"

"Well I know you said that Dr. Swann suggested you be nicer to me, but I'm still...you're really going all out. I mean, even I don't want to be packing my stuff up. It's lame."

Kal-El nodded and shoved his trunk in the back of the truck bed without effort. "Perhaps this is not so bad. I am the first to admit that you are not so onerous."

"Thanks?"

Kal-El shrugged stiffly, as if the movement was foreign to him. "No, I meant that, if you would just realize that mother loves me more, we could get along quite well."

"Mom loves me more, R2D2."

"Mother prefers me, Opey," Kal-El replied.

Clark blinked. "You are so weird sometimes. Really? Andy Griffith references? Where does that even come from."

His brother sighed and rubbed his hands on his jeans, getting the dust off of them. Clark followed suit. "I have your memories through the day Kara or Lindsay, whoever, tricked us. You have occasionally seen Nick At Nite."

"Well, yeah. Still, I'm not Opey!"

"John-Boy then?"

"See," Clark replied, shaking his head. " This is the Kal-El I know."

"Still, after six months, you are not so horrible. This is not unbearable."

"I love you too," Clark snarked. Sometimes Kal-El wore out his welcome, well most of the time. However, he did have his useful side, like the way his stipend had freed up his own life, allowing him to do more than stay stuck at Central Kansas. It meant he didn't have to fall into a pre-ordained destiny of either Jor-El's or his dad's design. He didn't have to rule the world and he didn't have to farm. Now he just had to figure out what the Hell he was gonna do.

"Feeling is assuredly mutual," Kal-El replied winking at him and opening the door to the kitchen. Before Clark could blink, he was sitting at the kitchen table with a tall glass of lemonade and an unbelievably large slice of apple pie.

Stepping into the kitchen, Clark prepared his own snack, frowning when he was left with a slice about a third of the size of Kal-El's. "You took all the pie!"

"I have a faster metabolism. Besides, you have been gaining weight for six months."

Clark glared at him, as he sat down on his own stool, digging into his pie just to spite him. So his t-shirt was a little tighter. It wasn't like he couldn't still button his jeans or anything, even if it was more difficult than it had been back in March. "I'm fine."

"Do not be mad at me. I was merely stating a simple fact. You don't burn calories the way I do anymore. You can no longer eat as much as you did, even if you have farm chores to consider."

"Okay, so I'm not saying that I did gain weight, cause I totally didn't."

"However?"

"Yeah, but okay, assuming I did, maybe like five pounds or so, do you think that's why Lana went to New York."

Kal-El sighed and it ruffled the curtains. Huh, Clark hadn't gotten that one either. "Lana was fickle and incapable of caring for anyone but herself. I will say this one more time, it was not your fault she transferred."

"She's not that bad."

"How many days' notice did you give you about her decision?"

Clark glared at him and dug into his pie some more. "She cared about me."

"I suppose she may have in however way she is capable, but she did not love you or she would have remained here. You did nothing wrong; it is she who is deficient."

"Are you comforting me?"

"Marginally. Though," he added, smirking. "You may wish to avoid the 'freshman fifteen.' You would like to fit into your clothes, would you not?"

"Oh screw you."

"That is an offer I shall decline."

"You know what I mean. I think I've had enough togetherness for the week," Clark said, scraping his tines against his plate, trying to get the last crumbs of his tiny piece. "Still, I'm not fat."

"Merely larger," Kal-El countered, sighing again and Clark rolled his eyes when the window frosted over. If his brother noticed, it did not stop him from speaking. "Clark?" And his tone was hesitant.

Frowning, Clark looked up at him. "Yeah?"

"Jonathan is going with us to unload you, correct?"

"You're coming?"

"I have said I shall. Everything is heavy and it is hot this fall, Indian Summer. You could use the assistance and, with his heart, he should not lift anything."

"Yeah, I know," Clark replied, forcing thoughts of his red K crime spree and his mother's miscarriage from his mind. It was hard when he could just make out the brand on his brother's chest from the way his t-shirt stretched tightly over his torso. He had had that mark too and knew it hurt, would always be mildly painful for Kal-El.

"Then it is best I come."

"The 'we're just twins; ignore Smallville being weird' spiel."

"You were adopted. We are merely reunited after some time apart."

"That's one way to put it," Clark said, sipping his lemonade. "I...why do you want to know? You and dad don't really get along."

"If I am making amends with you, it may be best to do something similar with Jonathan."

Clark frowned. Kal-El had no idea that dad had approached him and asked him to help him banish Kal-El, that his dad was really scared that Kal-El was going to conquer Earth and be Jor-El's errand boy, basically. "I don't know if that's going to work out. I mean, please don't flash fry the messenger, but I don't think dad's ready for an olive branch."

Kal-El nodded stiffly. "But perhaps it is best to try. Virgil had a point that what kind of leader could I be if I cannot even learn to work with both of my adoptive parents."

"I don't want you to get your hopes up. I mean, mom and Chloe really like you and Lois...well she's so Lois about everything, you know?"

"She seems to think of us as younger brothers."

"Yeah, like that, but more noogies for me. Dad might never come around, Kal-El."

"Do you know something I do not?"

Clark looked down at his empty plate. He couldn't tell Kal-El what he knew, not because he didn't trust his brother or want to see him hurt. He just didn't think the other man could handle it. "Oh, just things in conversation, you know? He's kind of been snippy like I have. It's a process, you know? Mom came around."

"You know more than you are saying."

"Kal-El just try and be realistic."

"I want to die," Clark said, curling up on his stupid twin bed. It wasn't even an extra long and his feet hung off the end. That was going to keep him awake all freaking year.

"Sweetie," his mom said. "You should take a rest. I snagged a bottle of water from the commons room."

Sitting up, Clark took a large swig. "Ugh, it's a hundred degrees and I'm on the third floor and they have no AC. This really sucks."

His brother would show up then, dressed in a long-sleeved button down no less, whistling and carrying the heavy bookcase in one hand as if it weighed nothing at all. Bastard wasn't sweating one drop and Clark was covered, as if he'd jumped into a swimming pool. "It is not so bad, although you do reek."

His mother thumped Kal-El on the back of the head, being careful enough not to break her fingers. "I keep telling you two not to fight."

"We're doing better," Clark admitted, still drinking. "He's just annoying."

"Mother, he hurt my feelings."

Mom rolled her eyes and shook her head. "You said he smelled. If you two can't get it in your heads that no one is my favorite. I'm promoting Shelby to son and locking the doors for Thanksgiving."

"Mom!"

"Mother!"

"That's what I thought. You're eighteen, you can be mature."

"Maybe," Clark said, staring at the empty half of his double. Well, at least he could have a double. If he still floated in his sleep, he'd have had to jump university hoops to protect his secret. "It sucks that Chloe had her DP interview today and that dad had to run errands in Granville."

"Yeah, true," his mother said, biting her lip.

Clark sighed, knowing that his dad had completely made up any errands in order to avoid spending time with Kal-El. Clark just hoped he wasn't on another mission, searching local areas for more black K. Dr. Swann certainly wouldn't give him any and, even if he could, it just seemed mean to get rid of Kal-El now, even if he was a total snot.

Kal-El sat down on the other bed and shook his head. "He was not that busy, was he?"

"Baby-"

"I understand. I was still most useful in our move in."

Clark blinked. " Our ?"

"Did mother forget to tell you? The reason Sull-I-Van is applying for the internship is because both of us have decided to stay longer in Metropolis."

"You have a penthouse!"

"I would like to experience college as human youth do."

"Mom! He can't live with me. This room is 180 square feet. We'll kill each other."

"Then Shelby can be my favorite," she chirped. "This will be good for both of you. You both need to learn to share."

"Besides, Clark," Kal-El replied and was he leering? What the Hell? "Merely tell the sorority girls you meet that you are a twin."

His mother broke the alarm clock hitting him over the head with it. "Not a funny joke."

Kal-El shrugged. "But Clark is so easy to manipulate. Look at him, how he sputters."

Clark was just gaping at the utter wrongness of his brother's suggestion. It was a joke sure, but just no. "Ugh, I hate you."


	4. Chapter 4

4

Was it wrong to admit that his intended scared him?

The fact that Sull-I-Van was not quite human and hadn't been in a year or the fact that she had an ability that rivaled any of his should have mitigated the shame. She never hurt him, well, an occasional jolt when he'd been trying to hurt people on the Gatorade aside, she never hurt him, but she was very intimidating.

Sull-I-Van was not a woman it was wise to cross, her own access to an extraterrestrial fortress's control system aside.

Kal-El was reminded of that over dinner at their penthouse in Metropolis. He'd come there straight from helping his brother move in, in order to pack up his own things like his laptop, a printer, some of his more casual clothes. To be honest, he lacked anything as painfully bland as his brother's preschool wardrobe of reds and blues. Still, he would need to have some clothing and toiletries in his dorm room. It wasn't in the spirit of "roughing it" as humans said if he didn't at least try to spend time in the room he'd been assigned. In fact, the thought of doing everything the average dorm student way did amuse him. He could imagine all the things he and his intended could do to exile Clark to the commons sofa.

His brother could stand to toughen up a bit after all. Some "sexiling" wouldn't kill him.

Still, as he set out a congratulatory supper of fettucine alfredo, he knew his gesture was futile.

His intended stomped into the room, a massive scowl on her face, poured herself a large glass of white wine (it might as well have been grape juice with both their metabolisms), and started to shovel in her dinner with so much aggression, he feared for the noodles.

"Sull-I-Van? I...did your day not progress well?"

She dropped her fork and glared at him. He was glad she didn't have heat vision then. "No, Kal-El, my day really fucking sucked. Pauline Kahn is a raging bitch and I'll never have a job at The Daily Planet as long as she's there."

"I do not understand?" he said, sitting down to his own plate. "How could anyone not hire you as a reporter?"

"She was there when I arm twisted Lionel to get me a column, that year I was a junior. She hated me for jumping the line, and said the day I left, they had cake ."

"Perhaps that is a euphemism."

"She showed me a picture! It's on her desk framed. I really fucked up."

Kal-El sighed, unsure of what to say. Comforting her was something he loved doing. However, the deal over Lionel had hurt both him and Clark terribly. While he loved her and had forgiven her, the thought that even in a moment of weakness and pain she'd betrayed him hurt. "I am sorry."

"You have the same reaction she did. It was wrong. I know that now. Everything with Lionel was wrong. It almost ruined my relationship with Clark, did ruin my father's career, and killed my college fund and almost me. It was a terrible thing I did."

"Yes, this is true but you were almost killed in order to put Lionel away. This is something that I am grateful for. It matters not that he was out on technicality or that he is currently mentally vacant. What matters is that you risked your life for justice and it was wrought."

"Until the appeals," she muttered. "It still doesn't mean Kahn will make me a reporter."

He considered that. "There are other positions at the Planet."

"Huh?"

"You may convince her to let you start at archives, tipline, or even as a non-paid intern. It's the most famous paper in the country in an age when print journalism jobs are dying out. Is it wrong to think that you may not start at the top for once in your life? Perhaps if you go back to her and offer her a trade. A show of talent, one good story from Metropolis University, and you can be put on the tipline to work your way up."

" Tipline ? Excuse me?"

"It is how one starts, Sull-I-Van. Of course, if you prefer, I am sure that Virgil can make a call at The Metropolis Journal."

"No more billionaire favors even if Virgil means it from a good place. I can't keep taking favors, I get that."

"Then," he said, slurping up a noodle. "You have to try a second shot with Ms. Kahn. I believe you can do this, but you have to show her that you are not that girl you were two years ago. Do you understand?"

"Yeah, I just...wow...begging to be on tipline."

"There are other ways and other papers, but you must atone if the Planet is what you want."

"There is no other paper but the Planet, Kal-El. It's always the one I wanted."

He nodded and took a sip of his own wine. "Then it is the one you have to swallow your pride for."

"Yeah, I wish I'd never been petty and sixteen."

"We have all had our moments of weakness, Sull-I-Van."

"I know, but," she said, brightening. "At least I have my boyfriend to support me at home."

"Yes, well, about that," he said.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "What?"

"I have enrolled also at Metropolis University. I understand you have to in order to make your resume and qualifications for the Planet even passable. I understand that Clark has done so for it is customary."

"And you?"

"I am doing it for Virgil has suggested so. I was going to divide my time between anthropology and international studies. Math and science are beneath me-"

"Gee, thanks," she said, winking.

"But he is not wrong. A formal understanding of cultures and governments...I cannot help people if I do not understand them at a deeper level than a high school student or a tourist. I must work to know more."

"And to make inroads with Clark and Jonathan?"

"Why does everyone assume this?"

"Because being nice is the only reason to help anyone move in in hundred plus degree heat. It's sweet Kal-El. We can get you a new backpack and everything."

"How excited I am."

"So, what else beside anthro and international studies 101 did you enroll in?"

He smiled. "Intro chemistry, intro physics, and differential equations. I am required to get my math and lab science credits as well. I decided to do so as soon as I could."

"You're going to screw the curve!"

"I shall try to only get As and not 100s. I would loathe me too in those classes."

"Wow, a 97 only Kal-El, how charitable. I wish you'd mentioned it."

"I literally just received my room assignment yesterday."

"Room assignment?"

He blushed. "Why, yes, I want to live sometimes as a freshman would. Clark and I are roommmates."

"But you'll be here too?"

"We shall split time, of course. Do you not look forward to illicit affairs on my twin bed?"

"Hardly, Kal-El."

"It shall be fun! We may hang a sock on the door to warn my brother."

"You're such a jerk."

"I am not. To not warn would be cruel."

She rolled her eyes. "You should have let me know about this change."

"I am aware. I...if I was rejected for some reason, I did not want you to know. I did not doubt Dr. Swann's recommendations or his ability to create a paper trail, but I applied late."

"You were embarrassed I'd think you were stupid if a Met U said no? Kal-El you're a supergenius!"

"I know this. I did not say it was rational but I did not want you to think poorly of me if I had been rejected."

Sull-I-Van was up then, walking around the table and kissing him. "You could never make me think poorly of you. Now, I can't wait to help you decorate your dorm room."

"You know, your underwear would-"

Ouch. He had to remember to upset his intended less as he watched the glow fade from her hand.

Most assuredly.

"Sull-I-Van," he said, frowning. "I am not a fan of either Monet or Klimt."

"They're requirements! You wanted the college life," she said, hanging up a print of water lillies.

He shook his head and blurred. In an instant, in place of the art work was a copy of the infamous shot of John Belushi in a sweatshirt reading "college" from animal house. There was also an obligatory one for the original Godfather . "There, now it is perfect."

She rolled her eyes and still put up Starry, Starry Night by his closet door. Amused by the sly callback to his and Clark's origins, Kal-El did not remove it. "You're just embracing the stereotype."

"I could rush a fraternity. With my inability to get drunk, I would be a hero."

"Right, you'd never last. You'd have nothing to talk about."

"I could grunt out my feelings," he said, winking at her and it was sometimes too easy to get to her as well.

Sull-I-Van giggled and finished doing up his sheets. "There, now you are ready for college."

"Imagine my excitement," he replied leaning down and kissing her, sighing when his brother burst into the room.

"Hey! No fair!"

"We're dating, Clark," Sull-I-Van said, pulling away from his embrace. "We don't try and rub it in your face but we were kissing before you burst in. Knock!"

"It's my room!"

"It is equally our room," Kal-El corrected. "We have shared a body. Surely you can manage to share a domicile, to knock."

His brother's eyes widened. "You don't understand! Guys! Shh, no one can hear stuff like that. It makes us sound weird."

Out of spite, Kal-El made his eyes go red, only after making sure no one was coming or could see him from the hall. He enjoyed annoying his brother, not risking needless exposure when he was not yet ready. "We are odd."

Clark blushed. "You know what I mean. I'm not odd. You're just the one who enjoys it."

He gestured to his Animal House poster. "I am more than fine. Although, now that Sull-I-Van mentioned it, I might prefer a poster from Lilo and Stitch to The Godfather . I do enjoy Disney."

"We cannot have alien posters in our room!" his brother hissed.

Kal-El sighed. While it was fun to rankle Clark, it was a bit sad that Clark was so high strung. One day his brother, now "normal," might actually allow himself to relax. For Clark's sake, Kal-El hoped it would be soon. "We shall keep it as it is, Clark. Do not worry. So why did you rush in to begin?"

"I'm rushing!"

"Yeah," Chloe said. "We noticed."

"No," Clark said, shoving a flier into her hands. "I'm rushing. The only way that I'll be able to not live with Kal-El now is to join a fraternity. Sigma Delta is looking for members this semester and they're pretty elite."

Kal-El glanced at his intended over Clark's shoulder. His brother, to be fair, was a nice person, not necessarily outstanding or exceptional, but a genuine and kind fellow overall. Yes, like all siblings he annoyed Kal-El, but he was mostly a good man. He was not, however, a big man on campus type. Sull-I-Van frowned back at him. She was thinking the same thing.

"Clark, I...that's the most elite frat on campus."

"But the others don't rush until winter semester and I could make it! Are you saying I'm not cool?"

Kal-El sighed. "Not as much, no, but it may not be best for you to set your expectations so high. As far as I understand it, it only takes on pledge a year."

"I can be that guy!" Clark said, sighing. "You think I'm a loser."

"No, aside from refusing to be more than human, I do not think you're weak or deficient."

"Gee, thanks."

"I do not wish for you to be hurt should you be rejected. I shall only be here about four nights a week, perhaps five. You should wait until the other ten fraternities rush, even out one's chances."

"Clark, it's not a bad idea-"

He glared at both of them and snatched the flier back from Chloe. "You don't think I can win the slot?"

"I...Clark," she said. "That's not exactly-"

His brother rolled his eyes and started back out the door. "I'll show you. I'm going to be a Sigma Delta." With that, Clark stomped away.

His inteded sighed. "That went well."

Kal-El nodded. "Perhaps he shall prove us wrong. I just...it will not be a fair blow to him after Lana to be rejected like this a week into the semester."

"You do care?" Sull-I-Van asked, and she was slightly confused.

"I do. He is confused and stubbornly clings to be merely human, yes, but the rejection will hurt."

"Maybe he'll make it," she said, biting her lip.

He nodded, thinking about that. "Perhaps he merely needs a hand."


	5. Chapter 5

Clark was upstairs in the attic, looking through his dad's possessions back from college. The attic wasn't finished, really more a cubbyhole up a rickety pullout staircase. Clark had to bend over double to get the leverage he needed to search through the ancient cardboard boxes gather dust. He'd accidentally sat up too fast and already bumped his head on the eaves.

Some days, even if he didn't want all his powers back, he really did miss his invulnerability. That one had been extremely useful.

After what seemed like forever and when the air almost felt too stifling to deal with, Clark found the box he was searching for, the one that contained his father's college memorabilia, including his fraternity picture from Sigma Delta. Now, it hadn't been that kind of frat back then. It had been popular enough. Even if his dad hadn't played college ball, he was a fairly well liked guy on campus. However, Sigma Delta became _the _fraternity on campus some time around about 1999 or 2000 when Biff Saunders had reinvigorated everything as their president and now as their national advisor. Still, proof of being a Sigma Delta at Metropolis University was still as much of a leg up as Clark could hope for. Anything that would give him any advantage going into something so competitive was excellent.

Balancing the box carefully in one hand, Clark worked his way down the ladder. Mom was visiting campus, having lunch with Kal-El and doing the impressed parent thing. Clark actually didn't mind. Don't get him wrong, he was very interested in being his mom's favorite, no matter what she said about not having one, but today he had to get ready for rush on Monday so Kal-El could show mom the humanities library's updated look and whatever else today.

He was reading through his dad's old college yearbooks, looking at bit at some of the activities he'd gotten up to with Sigma Delta while at Met U when the man in question came through the back door. "Clark?"

Clark nodded and shut the yearbook from his dad and mom's senior year. "Oh hey!"

"Where's your mother?" his dad asked, pulling out some ham slices and bread to make lunch.

He sighed. Mentioning Kal-El made his dad frustrated and angry; he'd be less than pleased to know that's where his mom had gone. "Met U."

"Oh."

"Um, yeah. Kal-El's on this picking his major kick and he wanted her thoughts on it. He's taking her to the humanities library and trying to pick between poli sci and anthropology. He might double major? Who knows."

"School started four days ago."

"Yeah, overachieving," Clark replied, still aware of the tension in the room. "But yeah so he and mom are doing that and I am just going to do the intro class stuff and figure out a major this summer, no pressure."

His dad nodded and brought his sandwich to the den and sat down in the old rocker to eat. "Like I've said, son, it's playing a long game."

Clark stiffened. He didn't really appreciate the pronouns. "I doubt if he were going to turn into Mussolini or whatever that he'd bother going to college and having to deal with like intro level freshman art for filling out his pre-reqs or like freshman comp either. It's not a very compact plan for world conquest."

"So humanities?"

Clark nodded. "He says he already knows all the math and science and half of it is wrong anyway. I guess that sort of happens when you're a research assistant for a year to the number one guy in physics." And no, he wasn't being a little snippy about Kal-El still being a genius and him not.

"Yes, maybe."

"I...it's just that he's not a bad guy, dad. I mean, insufferable and full of himself, sure, but not out to conquer Earth or even like that witch bad. Does that make sense?"

"I know what I saw."

"What you _dreamed_," Clark corrected. "I'm not doing this out of being noble. I'd love if I'd stay your favorite. I'm learning I'm not that big into time sharing mom and Chloe."

"Your mother's being played, Chloe too."

Clark just barely kept himself from rolling his eyes. "Like I said, I was into being, um, an only child for lack of a better way to explain the two of us, but Kal-El is trying. He's saved the world as I heard it. He's helping people in Metropolis. He's actually pretty good with Chloe and mom even if he still seems to me to be about as interesting as cardboard. Oh and that part where he got shot for me and in order to get you to the hospital with Lex's evil half. Like I said, he could have the president kneeling before him inside of an hour. If we want to go there. Really no need to finish high school for that."

"And if it's planning-"

"No, I think his plans are what you see. He doesn't get yet how to help people more than stopping minor crimes in Metropolis or, well, slightly bigger ones in other cities, but I can get that stopping a million muggings still isn't all we...he can do."

His dad arched an eyebrow at him but bit into his sandwich regardless.

Clark shifted, again uncomfortable. "I...like I said...arrogant and a bit into bragging about Krypton, not that charming no matter what mom and Chlo think, but not bad. I mean, okay, if I was being honest, I have my downsides. Not many, but some. I just...you could try more. He wants to be around dad. He actually really helped me packing and getting all my stuff to the third floor. It's weird that he's trying not to pick on me as much, sort of new, but we're trying this slightly more mature thing."

"Your mother said she's promoting Shelby to favorite because he doesn't talk as much."

"I said _working _on it."

"Son, you didn't meet it at first. It did a lot of damage to Swann's apartment and was so cold, not like you at all."

"And now he literally rescues cats from trees or, at least Chloe said he did in New York two weeks ago. Like I said, hardly fearsome. We're sharing a dorm. At least come by Met U a bit on the weekends to see us-not a lot, ruins any reputation I want to have-but you could try it. It doesn't just mean a lot to him; it also means a lot to me if you'd try."

"I said that-"

"'You don't trust _it _. Kal-El needs to be stopped. He's going to take over the world.' Yes, I have heard you say these points for almost seven months, since I woke up. But it isn't fair to paint him like that and, worse, he was me. I know that's weird, believe me, but when you say things about him...it reflects on me, you know?"

"And Jor-El hasn't created you."

"No, but I don't think he created Kal-El like you assume he did. Seriously? What use does Jor-El have for giving Kal-El an absurd love of Disney animated movies or a need to make mom and Chloe happy. It's not expedient and that's all Jor-El cares about."

"Alright," his dad said, setting down his plate and wiping his hands. "I'll at least visit."

"To socialize or keep a closer eye on him?" Clark asked, his tone resigned.

"I want to support you at school and, yes, it's important to keep an eye on Kal-El. Someone has to."

He nodded, knowing it was not the time to press any more. Maybe if dad spent more time with both of them he'd get that, while annoying and sometimes rigid, Kal-El wasn't here to conquer Earth. At least spending more time could be a start.

"So," his dad started, looking at the books on the table. "You're looking up your old dad?"

Clark shook his head. "Actually, I'm rushing your old frat. I wanted to be able to prove I was a legacy and then just got curious about you all in college."

"We were young once, imagine that."

Despite the tense mood, Clark laughed. "I know! It's so weird to see pictures of you both my age. I just...weren't parents always old?"

"Nope, you just give us more gray hairs. So son, Sigma Delta? I'm proud of you. I think this would be a great step to getting you out there."

"I'm not a hermit."

"You were awfully wrapped up with Lana and then she left for art school. I think it'll just be a great way to make guy friends. Pete left and Kal-El's-"

"Not really my friend," Clark corrected. "Definitely. Got any advice?"

"Yes, be prepared for pledge week. It's a killer."

Clark wasn't feeling so good.

It was _night _one of pledge week. He'd started with, well, one didn't want to know. Basically the first event had been drinking things that no person should drink. Not like paint thinner or even excessive alcohol, don't get him wrong. It was just these horrible concoctions of spices and toothpaste and God knew what. He'd had his turn to drink something ridiculously hot and lumpy like unmixed pancake batter (worse it had had a minty taste that could only be toothpaste). Now, after downing that crap, he'd been drug out with the other ten pledges to run the hills behind Met U's sprawling campus.

He was behind at least half the pledges, somewhere in the middle stretch of the three mile run, and feeling like whatever he'd drunk was going to make an encore appearance on the road any second.

That was when he felt a breeze and, suddenly, found himself blinking back at his brother beyond a small copse of trees.

"Kal-El! I'm going to lose. I have to keep time."

"Change clothes."

"Excuse me?" Clark said, gaping back at him.

"I have to wear what you started the night in. At least I stole a pair of your jeans and boots. I merely need your t-shirt, Clark. Give it to me."

"What?"

Kal-El sighed and a breeze kicked up around them. "Clark, I can win the events. It is not hard. I wish I'd found your earlier, I could have drunk whatever horrible substance still lingers on your breath."

"I'm pretty sure there was cayenne pepper and old bay to start."

"Assuredly so," Kal-El replied, taking off his button down. Clark winced at the scar there, the obvious physical distinction between the two of them, far more than eye color. He wondered how often it throbbed for his brother; he'd wager often.

Clark sighed but stripped of his shirt and tossed it to Kal-El. "Why are you doing this?"

"Because you want it and because you have had a terrible enough fall. In an odd way, I had looked forward to sharing a room."

"Had not!"

"In an odd way, I said," Kal-El corrected, putting on the blue t. "You may do the social events, but leave anything physical to me. You shall be a Sigma in no time."

With that, his brother was gone and Clark assumed he'd come in at human speed but make remarkable time in the final lap.


End file.
